Posts in Thoughts

Handing over the keys to my Florida house — and I was free. The hardest part was still ahead: heading north. First to Orlando, then onto the Turnpike leading to Highway 75, the road that runs through Gainesville and then northwest.

We tiptoe through life carefully, afraid to scare off the butterflies on the flowers that we imagine as crocodiles. Because what if they suddenly turn into predators and snap! at us!

It seems to me that everyone around has his or her own opinion about how the Universe is designed. And I have listened to all their theories - incredibly interesting, of course - and the more I listened to them, the stranger I felt.

There comes a moment in a person’s life when they stop for a while, look at their existence, and feel that something is missing. You have a degree or two, a great job with a manageable amount of work and free time.

Since I believe that the past, present, and future are not some continuation over time, but rather concrete components of the present moment, I began, like a cat with its tongue, to pass through my entire life with thick strokes, straight from childhood, illuminating, like an X-ray, with sunlight all the moments of family and closeness that I experienced, all the signs of lack of love and disconnection in my family.

I want to release everything from my soul. All the weight. Tell it. To someone who […]

I am a unique specimen. Well, wait, I’ve heard this somewhere before. I’ve said it. Thought it. With pomp. Eyes closed. Brows raised in a Pierrot style. Suddenly, it seemed to me by chance that everything is not turning out the way it should for me to be happy.

Once upon a time, when we met after hours of separation, we couldn’t help but hug each other. It felt so good to embrace, to feel like ourselves again, you being you, me being me, us being us...

If Mark Foster were a bit more exalted about his uniqueness, he could very well have turned into a decent David Lynch. But Mark doesn’t take the easy road. How many times can you bleed out before it turns out that you’re finally dying on the Brooklyn Bridge due to some burst tire?

Don’t believe anyone who tells you that New York is a blend of glass and metal, a cold city pierced by towering skyscrapers, with incessant advertising on the streets and the biting winds of winter evenings, piles of garbage on the roads, and crowds of dubious characters…